


Fenris, the Pizza Delivery Man

by babybutterbeans



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybutterbeans/pseuds/babybutterbeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris is a pizza delivery guy. Delivering pizza to Garrett Hawke turns out to be the most bizarre experience of his pizza-delivering career. </p>
<p>(based on a prompt i saw on tumblr. this is literally so awful i'm so sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, this is really, really stupid, and I don't know why I wrote it.
> 
> The actual prompt is: "“im a pizza delivery person and i just delivered a pizza to someone in the middle of a satanic ritual and they gave me their number???” au"
> 
> (I'll give a link to the full post in the end notes.)

                The first time it happened, Fenris was happy to pretend he hadn’t seen anything and move on with his life.

            It happened one evening during (what he thought was going to be) a typical pizza delivery run. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the phone call made to order the pizza, or the pizza order itself.

            So _ordinary_ is what Fenris expected when he parked his car outside the man’s apartment building in Hightown. As he entered the building, felt that familiar wave of self-consciousness that he always felt when coming to these higher-class neighborhoods. Those people made no effort to conceal their stares and whispers when they noticed him. They’d look from his bright, silver-white hair to the white tattoos that stood out boldly against his darker skin, and they’d stare in awe. Isabela had noticed it, too, during one of their infamous drinking nights at The Hanged Man, and she teased him relentlessly about how she believed that those that were staring were simply madly in love with him, but after a few drinks, Fenris found himself laughing along with her.

            Finally reaching the apartment, he knocked a few times and to his surprise, the door swung open after the third knock.

            “Oh thank god you’re finally here,” the man in the doorway said, “I truly thought I was going to starve to death.”

            It appeared that every light in the apartment was off, leaving just a flickering orange glow (that Fenris immediately recognized as candlelight) illuminating the open room behind the man. He could hear whispering coming from inside the apartment, but ignored it because he just really didn’t care.

            Despite the lack of light in the apartment, Fenris could see the man in front of him clearly thanks to the light in the hallway. He was quite a bit taller than him, and certainly much bigger. He had messy brown hair, a rather thick beard, and something that looked suspiciously like blood smeared across the bridge of his nose. Yet another thing that Fenris was going to ignore. The man was grinning, clearly very excited about his pizza having finally arrived, and moved aside so Fenris could step inside to set the pizzas down on a table just inside the door. As the man walked into another room in the apartment, presumably to get money for the food, Fenris finally saw what was going on in the main room.

            As he suspected, there were candles. _Many_ candles, set all around the room. But there was also what appeared to be a coffee table in the middle of the room, and on top of it appeared to be a large, ornate metal bowl in the center, an open book that, even in the candlelight, looked _ancient_ , and, of course, more candles. But what he found most alarming were the three people kneeling around the table. He could hear the whispering much more clearly now, but it didn’t matter because the language wasn’t one he could recognize. The woman whispering sat in the center, between the two others. She looked a bit younger than Fenris, with short black hair and strange black markings on her face. A woman with wavy black hair sat to her left, and to her right was a man with blond hair tied back carelessly. The man and woman were sitting in silence, while the woman in the center continued her bizarre whispering.

            Fenris was, understandably, extremely unsettled by the whole thing. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at the group when the woman in the center looked up at him, startling him so badly, he actually jumped. He wasn’t sure what sort of evil creature he’d been expecting her to be, so he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or terrified when she simply grinned and started waving excitedly at him.

            “Oh, hello! I didn’t notice you there!” Her voice was high and cheery, the opposite of whatever Fenris had been expecting. She seemed genuinely, adorably _happy_.

            The man to her right suddenly groaned.

            “Ugh, _Merrill_! You can’t just stop in the middle of it! Now we’re going to have to start all over.”

            “Give her a break, Anders.” The other woman spoke up. “She’s doing well this time!” The woman’s voice was rougher than the others’, but had the same sweet, happy note to it.

            “Aw, thank you, Bethany!” she - _Merrill_ , apparently- was grinning. “There’s no point in continuing without Hawke. Maybe we can take a quick pizza break!” she practically giggled.

            Fortunately, at this point, the man - _Hawke_ , Fenris assumed- returned with his money. Still smiling, he took a long look at him while he handed the money to him (which he, admittedly, found slightly scary but also _slightly_ hot), but as Fenris went to hand him his receipt, Hawke jerked away suddenly.

            “Shit, I forgot your tip! Hold on just a minute,” he wasn’t smiling so much anymore, but Fenris noticed that he had the same glint in his eye that Isabela often had when she stalked off after some attractive person she noticed across the bar.

            As he practically sprinted back to whatever room he was getting his money from, Fenris barely managed to suppress a frustrated groan. He seriously considered just leaving, deciding that he’d definitely give up the tip money if it meant he got out of this somewhat horrifying apartment. But he stood, awkwardly waiting for Hawke to return. The three still sitting in the living room were still bickering amongst themselves, though from the occasional giggle and at least one thrown couch pillow, it was just all in good nature.

            Finally, Hawke returned with a crumpled wad of bills in his hand.

            “And here you go!” He said with a smile, and then _winked_. Fenris had to admit, the man was attractive, even with that suspicious blood-smear across his face. So, without really thinking, Fenris smiled back. Not his usual, generic “polite” smile, but a genuine one. Not that anyone could tell the difference between the two.

            Fenris gave him his typical ‘thank you, have a nice night, etc...’ before stepping out of the dim apartment and back into the hallway. As he walked down the hallway toward the stairs, he glanced back at the apartment. Hawke was still watching him. Fenris raised his eyebrows at him and Hawke, who apparently hadn’t realized he’d been staring, actually blushed. He chuckled nervously, which then dissolved into a fake coughing fit, and gave him a quick ‘good night!’ before slamming the door.

            Fenris smirked as he made his way back out to his car. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he quickly sorted out the bills Hawke had given him, and to his surprise, a small slip of paper fell out of the pile. Confused, he picked it up.

            It had the name Garrett Hawke scribbled on it, followed by a phone number. And a smiley face.

            He let himself genuinely laugh at the absurdity of it all. He put the slip of paper into his pocket, but decided that he wouldn’t be calling Hawke. As ridiculously handsome as that man was, he was definitely more than a little concerned about the bizarre demonic ritual that appeared to be happening in his apartment.

            Either way, he couldn’t _wait_ to tell Isabela about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris tells Isabela about the strange man he met. Isabela is extremely amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the kudos and whatnot! c: <3333   
> sorry it's taken so long to write this. and sorry that this is just interaction between Fenris and Isabela, rather than more Hawke stuff.

                Later that night, as they sat in Isabela’s apartment drinking wine, Fenris told her the story his slightly disturbing pizza delivery run.

            As he expected, she laughed. Non-stop, for about five minutes.

            “I can’t decide which part is more hilarious,” she finally managed to get out between fits of laughter, “the fact that you interrupted some sort of evil blood ritual, or that the guy gave you his number.” Fenris took a long drink directly from the bottle. He smirked, and handed the bottle back to her.

            “I didn’t interrupt,” he points out, “they ordered a damn pizza. They practically invited me.”

            She sits up, having fallen to the floor during one particularly violent burst of laughter.    

            “You’re gonna call him though, right? I mean, you _have_ to call him.” She’s finally managed to calm down a bit, but kept grinning.

            “I… wasn’t planning on it, no. As attractive as that man was, he seems a little…” he pauses, attempting to find the right word, “...fucked up.” _Eloquently put_ , he thinks.

            “You at least kept the number, right?”

            Fenris remains quiet. Isabela begins to glare.

            “You kept it! Where is it? Let me see it!” Isabela leans over, making grabby hands at him.

           “No,” he says sternly.

            Isabela’s glare intensifies, and before Fenris has even a moment to prepare, she pounces on him with the grace of a large, slightly drunk cat. He laughs, and she starts trying to worm her hands into his pockets, looking for that little slip of paper. They struggle for a few moments, Fenris trying desperately to get away, but he quickly realizes that he’s _way_ too drunk for this level of physical activity.

            After a minute, Fenris ends up face down on the floor, with Isabela planted firmly on his back.

            “Tell me where it is!”

            “Never,” he growls, struggling halfheartedly, and Isabela sighs.

            “Well then…” she says, suddenly sounding very serious. “I didn’t want to have to do this, Fenris, because you’re my friend, but you’ve given me no other option.”

            He gives her a confused look for a moment, but then his eyes grow wide as he realizes what she has planned. He tries, with all his strength, to wiggle out from under her, but it’s too late.

            Isabela begins _tickling_ him, and it’s only a few seconds before Fenris breaks.

            “Back pocket! In my wallet!” He wheezes, and she stops. As he gasps for air, he feels her move. Not enough to allow him to squirm away, but he feels her pull his wallet out of his pocket.

            “Aha!” she says triumphantly, as she stands up. Fenris takes that opportunity to dart away, grabbing a pillow off her couch. He throws it at her as hard as he can (which isn’t terribly hard, considering how much he’d been drinking and his exhaustion from what he’d just endured), and smiles smugly when it hits her right in the back of her head.

            “You’re the worst human being I’ve ever met,” he growls, and she bursts into another laughing fit. He watches her carefully as she picks through his wallet looking for the slip of paper, but he knows that if she truly wanted to steal a couple bills from him, she’d be able to do it without being caught.

            He grabs the bottle of wine they’d been sharing and finishes it off, and steps out of the room to toss it in the garbage. When he returns, Isabela is grinning.

            “Garrett Hawke,” she says slowly, “I know this guy.”

            Fenris just stares at her, to prompt her for more information, and she just shrugs.

            “He’s one of Varric’s friends! Well, his _best_ friend, basically. I’ve hung out with him a few times. Have I never told you about him?”

            Isabela and Varric were pretty close. His brother, Bartrand, owned the pizza place that they both worked at, and Varric was basically their boss. Bartrand wasn’t around too much, but when he was, people were usually either yelled at or fired, so Varric practically ran the place. While Bartrand was still technically the owner, Varric ran _everything_. The restaurant would’ve gone under _years_ ago if Varric hadn’t been there.

            Despite being her boss, Varric and Isabela grew close very quickly. Varric was pretty likeable, always trying to make sure people were comfortable around him, and he and Isabela found common ground almost immediately. They both like drinking, card games, and telling stories, so she quickly started joining him for weekly games of Wicked Grace at The Hanged Man. He’d even gone so far as to making sure that she never had shift scheduled during one of their game nights, earning Isabela’s complete and undying loyalty, according to her.

            Fenris sinks down into the large, comfortable chair across from where Isabela is sitting.

            “So, is he that weird all the time?” He finally asks.

            “No, actually, apparently he’s quite the hero,” she smirks, “Varric’s told me the story. According to Varric, this Hawke guy saved the mayor’s son or something. Actually, now that I think about it, I think he saved the mayor _and_ his son. On separate occasions.” Isabela shrugs. “But knowing how Varric tends to exaggerate, he probably just saved the mayor’s cat or something.”

            “What did he save them from?” Fenris asks, his skepticism obvious.

            “Oh, I don’t know, Varric’s told me the story a few times, and it’s always different. And I’m always drunk.” She smiles. “It was… a kidnapping, I think? No, a break-in. Both, maybe? I honestly don’t know.”

            “Is this man with the police or something?” He was getting more confused with every word she said. There was no way that man he met had done something that… _incredible_.

            “No, I’m not sure what he does. But Varric’s told me a bit about his friends, and now that I think about it, I’m not surprised at what you saw earlier.” She gets up and heads to the kitchen for glasses of water for them both. “They’re like, vigilantes or something. Apparently they’ve stopped a lot of crime around here. They’ve got a friend on the police force, I think. I don’t know what exactly she does, but she’s high up enough to make records of what they’ve done disappear. That’s why they don’t get into trouble. That, plus the fact that the mayor seems to love him. I don’t know, they’re a really weird group.”

            Fenris was in shock.

            “How does that explain the ritual… thing?”

            Isabela just shrugs.

            “No idea. Like I said, they’re a weird group. I’ve never met any of them other than Hawke, and that was only a few, brief times.” She takes a sip of her water. “But, back to my original point, he’s _incredibly_ handsome, and if you don’t call him, I will.”

            He knew that was a serious threat coming from her. He was intrigued by this man, but he didn’t want to get involved with any of that. He’d come to Kirkwall for a quiet life, far from every aspect of his old life, he didn’t need to get involved with a group of extremely weird, potentially violent _vigilantes_.

            “Well, I’m off to bed,” Isabela says, finally. She walks over to a closet in the hallway outside her room, pulls out a stack of spare blankets and pillows, and throws them at him. “Sleep on the couch. Or the floor, that might be more comfortable, honestly.”

            “Thanks.” He gives her a small smile. No matter how much she may get on his nerves on occasion, Isabela was always a good friend.

            “And seriously, at least think about calling that guy.”

            “I will think about it.” He says firmly.

            She goes off to her room, and he knows she’ll be passed out within five minutes, but sleep doesn’t come easily to him. He’s up for another hour, lying on the couch, trying to convince himself that calling Hawke was a good idea, but Fenris knew better. He knew it couldn’t end well for him.

            With a sigh, Fenris stood up, grabbed the slip of paper, and headed toward the kitchen. He took one last look at it, as if he’d convinced himself that maybe he could memorize it in those few seconds. With yet another sigh, he crumpled it up and tossed it into the garbage.

            As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered vaguely if Isabela would dig through the garbage to find it, or just hit him with pillows for a while until she got over it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will probably be another Fenris/Hawke encounter.  
> as for the whole "Hawke's friends are vigilantes" thing, idk it's just something i really wanted to include. I have some idea of where i want this to go, so it might get a little angsty in later chapters. c:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, thank you guys so much for the kudos and the nice comments!! I didn't expect anyone to actually read this, so I have no words to express how happy and thankful i am for those of you who've taken the time to comment and leave kudos and whatnot. i love you all v much <333

            The second time it happened, Fenris allowed himself a moment of weakness, and said yes.

* * *

 

            When Isabela discovered that Fenris had thrown out the paper with Hawke’s number written on it, she had been, of course, _furious_.

            Even though the slip of paper was still well within reach, sitting carefully at the very top of the pile, and completely unsoiled by any other questionable item in the trash, it was the principle of the thing, according to Isabela.

            “This man is _clearly_ attracted to you, he’s handsome, and he’s _well-connected_ …” She was practically pacing around the room, looking incredibly grumpy.

            “What do his connections have anything to do with this?” he was sitting upright on the couch in his makeshift blanket nest, head in his hands, still trying to wake himself up completely.

            _“He probably has money_ ,” she grinned. “He’s friends with the mayor _and_ his son, he has friends on the police force, and he’s close to Varric, which has to count for something.” She shrugged.

            Fenris stood up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to toss a couple slices of bread into the toaster. He hoped that it wasn’t too obvious that he was _somewhat_ interested, so he decided to ignore her.

            But, Isabela was not going to take that for an answer. She spun him around to face her and placed her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. He glared, and she glared back.

            “Fenris, sweetheart, listen to me,” she said, very seriously, _“You need to get laid.”_ Fenris rolled his eyes and shrugged out of her grasp.

            “How is that any of your business?” He practically growled. He definitely could not have this conversation sober.

            “I have to work with you several days a week, and you’re basically my best friend, so I have to experience your constant brooding up close,” she raises her brows and crosses her arms across her chest. “You know what, I don’t care what you say, I’m helping you out with this.”

            “Don’t bother. I’m not interested,” He said rather angrily as he smeared butter all over his toast, not bothering to look up at her.

            “Nope, too late, I already have a plan.” She was smirking now; he didn’t have to look at her to know it from the tone of her voice. “Tonight’s Wicked Grace night. Come with me, and we’ll talk Varric about him. Maybe that’ll make you fall in love with him more than you already have.”

            “Ah, yes, a tempting offer,” he said sarcastically, “such a shame that I’m covering your shift tonight. You know, like I do _every week_ to cover for your Wicked Grace nights with our _delightful_ boss.”

            “Oh.”

            “I’m not interested in him.” He states again. “Please don’t pursue this, it’s not worth it.”

            Isabela sighs, raising her hands in defeat and rolling her eyes.

            “Fine, I’ll leave it alone.”

            An obvious lie.           

* * *

 

            It’s been two months since he first met Hawke.

            It had been an uneventful evening, as usual.

            The shop hadn’t been particularly busy, so Fenris found himself mostly wandering around the kitchen, scrubbing counters he’s sure he’s scrubbed five times already, mostly just trying to keep himself busy to avoid death by boredom.

            It was late, nearly 9 PM, when he got his 3rd delivery order for the night, and he was genuinely looking forward to getting out the restaurant for a little while. His excitement dwindled ever so slightly as he realized it was an address in Hightown, his least favorite part of Kirkwall, but he would still take the opportunity to get out and drive for a bit.

            As he pulled up to the apartment building, an unmistakable feeling of recognition filled his gut.

            _Oh no_ , he thought.

            He sat, frozen in his car, panicking slightly.

_It has to just be a coincidence_ , he tells himself. _Someone else who lives in the same building._

            He continues to tell himself that as he walks up to the appropriate apartment. He tells himself that as he knocks on the apartment door.

            But, of course, the door swings open and he’s met with a familiar, gorgeous, bearded face. He still has that weird red stripe across the bridge of his nose, too.

            Hawke takes one took at him and blushes bright red.

            “Oh,” he says simply.

            _Damn it_ , Fenris thinks as he feels himself blush, too.

            They stare at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds before Fenris clears his throat.

            “I, uh,” he mutters, “I apologize. I didn’t call.”

            “No, no! It’s okay!” Hawke insists, voice definitely quite a bit higher than it should be, “I’m sorry for doing that. It was weird, wasn’t it? That was a weird thing to do.” Hawke nods quickly, agreeing with himself.

            “I threw out your number,” Fenris says quickly, and immediately wants to slam his head against the nearest hard surface.

            “Oh!” Hawke says again, face turning red again. “I’ll, uh, grab your money real quick.” He mutters, and gestures to the table inside the door. “Just set the pizzas down here.”

            Fenris struggles to form a mental sentence that didn’t contain at least twelve swears, so he wordlessly sets the pizza down as Hawke walks off to get the money.

            This evenings, his apartment looks like a normal apartment. Lights on, decorated modestly with what appeared to be mostly antique furniture. Fenris can hear laughter and conversation happened in what he assumes is the kitchen. Well, at least they’re not being creepy.

            Hawke returns quickly, clearly embarrassed by, well, _everything_. He hands Fenris the money and thanks him for the food.

            “I’m sorry.” Fenris blurts out.

            “No, you have nothing to be sorry for!” Hawke assures him, “It’s perfectly understandable. A stranger gives you his number, of course you’re not going to call, right?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

            “I regret throwing it out.” Fenris says quietly, “I, uh… I wish I hadn’t, actually.”

            Hawke just stares, his eyes wide.

            They stare at each other for a moment, and Fenris takes his silence as disinterest. He’s just about to excuse himself when Hawke speaks up.

            “Alright,” he says slowly, “Okay, I’m going to do something bold now. I’m asking you out. On a date. A _coffee_ date.” He’s smiling, looking at Fenris with what could only be described as a mixture of excitement and hope.

            “Yes,” he says, almost too quickly, “A coffee date. That sounds… really nice.”

            “Really?” Hawke grins. “Okay, uh, how about next week? I should be free on Tuesday, if that’s alright with you. How about Tuesday afternoon, at about 1?”

            “That sounds perfect.” Fenris gives him a small smile.

            “Great!” Hawke says excitedly. “There’s this coffee place right across from where you work, actually, and I’m in love with the coffee there.”

            Fenris knows the shop he’s talking about, and wonders why he’s never seen Hawke there. Then he remembers that he only works evening shifts, and who buys coffee so late in the evening?

            “It’s a date,” Fenris says, smiling in earnest now. “I haven’t told you my name yet, have I? My name is Fenris.”

            “Oh, I forgot that I didn’t know your name,” Hawke chuckles nervously, “It’s nice to meet you, I guess! And I’m looking forward to our date!”

            They say their goodbyes and Fenris steps out of the apartment, and when Hawke shuts the door behind him, and can hear Hawke shout a muffled “ _YES!_ ” from the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update this as often as possible, now that i know that people actually enjoy it. <3
> 
> I have a pretty solid idea of what i want to happen, and where I want this to go, but I'm still working on little specific parts, like how/if i want to incorporate magic into this AU. I should probably figure that out soon. 
> 
> anyway, again, thank you guys so much for the nice comments <3 it really really means a lot to me, and it's really made me feel a way more comfortable about writing this. (and hey if you see any of those weird AU prompts floating around and want to distract me from writing this, let me know and maybe i'll write a lil something, if youre cool w/ mediocre lil fics. i know i need the practice)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, I've been a little lazy and I've only just gotten the motivation to write this chapter. (ok yeah i was playing dragon age...) It's a short one, I'm sorry.
> 
> also, thank you guys so much for the nice comments and kudos. it really really means a lot to me, and makes it really feel like i'm doing well with this, so thank you. you guys are the best <3 <3

                “It was an assassination plot!” Isabela shouted into Fenris’ apartment, the morning of his date with Hawke. Of course, having been friends for over a year, they were beyond the point of knocking on each other’s doors before coming in. (He always knocked before going into her apartment. She never wore pants when she was home alone, and _rarely_ shirts.)

                It was only about 9 AM, but Isabela knew he’d be awake. Or maybe she just didn’t care.

                “What exactly are you talking about?” Fenris sighed as she came into view. He was scouring his cupboards for something to make a quick breakfast out of, but gave up quickly as his anxiety effectively diminished his appetite.

                “Hawke’s thing for the mayor,” she said casually as she grabbed a can of soda from his fridge and settled on the couch, “how he saved his life. It was an assassination plot, apparently. Varric told me a bit about it.”

                Fenris snorted and rolled his eyes, clearly skeptical of Isabela’s discovery.

                “Well then,” he said as he sat down beside her, “tell me more of this assassination plot.”

                “Well, uh, I don’t know much about it, actually. Varric didn’t say much.” She gave a small shrug. “He’s not supposed to talk about it. Apparently, he’s technically not even supposed to _know_ about it. I guess the mayor didn’t want the general public to know about how easy it was for him to be almost murdered.”

                “Varric told you this?” He questioned, still not believing her, “You actually _trust_ Varric? The same man who tells everyone the story of how he and his brother found _buried_ _treasure_ _in a cave underneath Kirkwall?”_

                “That one’s true, though! That’s how they funded the restaurant!” Isabela chugged the last of her soda and tossed the can toward the garbage can, _somehow_ making it in. “And it wasn’t _buried_ , actually, it was just out in the open.”

                Fenris groaned.

                “I told you to leave this alone. Why must you keep prodding?” He leaned forward with his head in his hands.

                “I didn’t prod before, I promise. But when you told me you had a date with him, I thought, ‘ _why not find out more about this man and make sure he’s not creepy or something_?’ Because I’m a good friend.” She smiled. Fenris knew her well enough that even if she was telling the truth (and it was impossible to tell), she would’ve been dying to find out more about Hawke anyway. “And guess what? I’m pretty sure he’s not creepy.”

                “I _can_ take care of myself. Though, he does look strong...” He scowled, brows furrowed in thought.

                “I’ll go with you, then. As backup. In case he’s creepy,” Isabela said a little _too_ quickly.

                “No, absolutely not,” he said firmly. “Seriously, _don’t_. If I see you within five blocks of the place, I _will_ come after you.”

                “Aww, you ruin all the fun.” She leaned back, head in his lap, and gave him her best puppy-dog eyes and a pathetic frown. In return, he stood up, causing her to nearly roll of the couch.

                She giggled and stood up, walking toward his room.

                “If you’re not going to let me chaperone, at least let me help you pick out an outfit. You have _horrible_ fashion sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's so short, i just wanted to write a little in-between thing between their last meeting and their date. 
> 
> I'm really excited about writing the next chapter! It'll probably be up within the next couple of days, since I really can't wait to write it. c: I've decided basically how i'm going to incorporate magic into this au, as well as what Hawke's group does, and basically general stuff I want to happen. its just the in-between stuff i gotta figure out. c;


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, I had fun writing this one! it's way longer than any of the other chapters, so i hope no one minds. 
> 
> as always, thanks so much for the kudos and comments and whatnot. <3 i hope you guys enjoy this one.

                When Fenris arrived at the coffee shop that afternoon, Hawke was waiting outside, leaning back against the wall. Fenris had decided to walk to his date, since his apartment wasn’t very far, so as soon as Hawke noticed him approaching, he jogged over to meet him.

                Hawke was wearing a simple plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed carelessly up to his elbows, and jeans. Fenris was dressed similarly, in a black button-down shirt, dark combat boots, and his nicest skinny-jeans. Isabela had forced him to let her pick out his outfit, and in her words, those jeans in particular made his legs (and ass) look _fantastic_. She had also forcibly brushed his hair, despite his insistence that it looked better messy. It didn’t matter, though; he just messed it up in the reflection of his car’s mirror as he left.

                “Hey, Fenris!” Hawke grinned as he finally reached him. “Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be walking. I would’ve offered you a ride!”

                “It’s alright, I just didn’t want to drive today.” Fenris gave him a small smile, which Hawke happily returned, and they made their way to the coffee shop.

                Hawke held the door open for him with a polite “after you”, and they walked inside. It was a cute little shop, Fenris thought. From the outside, it didn’t look very remarkable, but inside it was nice and cozy, much nicer than Fenris had expected. It was nearly empty as well, with just a few people scattered around at the various tables, and a couple employees hanging out at the counter.

                “What would you like? I’m paying, by the way, so get whatever.” Hawke said quietly, give Fenris a gentle nudge with his elbow. Fenris stared up at the menu, and was immediately overwhelmed with the different choices. He wasn’t a regular coffee-shop patron, so most of the terms used were completely foreign to him.

                “Uh,” is all he could manage to say. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

                Hawke raised his eyebrows.

                “Really?” he asked, and Fenris nodded. “Alright, but you trust me _way_ too much.” He teased. “I’ll go ahead and order. Why don’t you go find us a table?”

                Fenris nodded and wandered off in the direction with the least amount of people as Hawke approached the counter. The employee there greeted him by name, so Fenris figures he wasn’t lying when he said he was in love with the coffee here. He settled at a table in the corner, right next to a wall and the window showing across the street. He noticed that he could clearly see the restaurant from there, and wondered if any of his coworkers had seen him.

                After a couple of minutes, Hawke came over and sat down carrying their drinks and a couple of sandwiches, which Fenris was very thankful for, considering he hadn’t eaten yet that day. Looking at his drink, he immediately noticed the ridiculous amount of caramel drizzled –no, _poured_ \- on the top of the equally ridiculous amount of whipped cream, and Fenris had to just take it on faith that there actually was coffee underneath it somewhere. Taking a sip, he winced at the sweetness of it.

                Hawke must’ve noticed, because he immediately spoke up.

                “Oh god, it’s too sweet, isn’t it?” His eyes were wide, as if he’d made some sort of horrible, life-threatening mistake. “I always forgot that not everyone like things that sweet.”

                “No, it’s fine,” Fenris assured him, “I just wasn’t expecting it. I don’t drink much coffee, and I usually only drink it black.” That was true. He rarely drank coffee, and only as a way to get that bit of caffeine he needed after a particularly sleepless night, or to get him through work. He almost hated the stuff, but he always kept a bag around, just in case. Besides, Isabela came over to his place _just_ to drink his coffee on plenty of occasions, so she’d probably kill him if he stopped buying it.

                Hawke made a noise of disgust.

                “How can you drink it without _anything_?” he sounded scandalized. “I tried that _once_ , and I almost threw up. And everyone laughed at me.”

                “It’s… tolerable, I suppose.” Fenris smiled and started picking at his sandwich. “It’s not my favorite drink, but the caffeine is worth it.”

                Hawke just laughed, and they sat in silence for a few minutes as they ate. It was only _slightly_ uncomfortable.

                “If I may ask,” Fenris broke the silence, hesitating slightly, “we have a mutual friend, apparently. Isabela. You know her?”

                “Isabela? Of course! She’s a friend of Varric’s!” He said cheerfully. “I’ve only met her a couple of times, but she seems fun! She’s never talked about you, though, which is probably comforting to you.”

                “Yes, I’m glad to hear that.” Fenris chuckled. “She’s told me a bit about you, though, and your _exploits_ , I suppose. Specifically an _assassination plot_ regarding the mayor of Kirkwall.” He raised a brow. Hawke gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck.

                “Ah. Yes. _That_.” He said quietly. “Well, it wasn’t an assassination plot, actually. More of a heat-of-the-moment decision. I was just lucky enough to have been there when that decision was made, and I was able to get there in time to stop it.”

                He must’ve been able to see his confusion, because after a moment of silence, Hawke continued.

                “Okay technically, I can’t talk about this, and if Aveline finds out, she’ll probably _literally_ murder me. So if anyone asks, you heard this from Varric.” Fenris nodded in agreement. “Well, you know about the Qunari, right?”

                Fenris was surprised at the question. Everyone who’d lived in Kirkwall for the last couple of years knew about the Qunari. They were a cult, basically. They came south for some reason (they never told anyone why, exactly) and ended up staying in Kirkwall for a while, much to the dismay of, well, _everyone_. They were strange, to say the least. They rarely spoke, and when they did, they were generally very blunt and vague. And it didn’t help that this particular group that came to Kirkwall consisted of what appeared to be a very small army. They stayed for a while, and then suddenly, they left. Nobody knew why. But being from Tevinter, Fenris knew them on a deeper, significantly more _violent_ level. But he couldn’t tell Hawke that.

                So, Fenris nodded, and Hawke continued his story.        

                “Ah, well, I had some business with their leader, at the request of the mayor and the police.”   

                “Why did they send you instead of someone more…” Fenris paused, searching for the right word. He knew Hawke and his friends did some shady stuff (they were vigilantes, Isabela had told him) so he had no idea why the mayor and the police force would’ve asked him for help.

                “Qualified?” Hawke suggested. “I’d met with their leader before. The Arishok, they called him. I met him after we unintentionally did him a few favors.” Fenris noticed how vague Hawke was being, and decided not to pry. “After that, I guess he decided that we were ‘ _worthy’_ of doing more favors for him, so we ended up helping him track down a thief. He paid well, at least, so that was nice.” Hawke gave him a shrug.

                “So you willingly helped the Qunari?” Fenris said, a little harsher than he had wanted and immediately regretted it; he didn’t want to start an argument.

                “It was more for the potential victims that would come from this theft than it was for the Qunari.” Hawke said firmly. “What they stole was dangerous, and they were going to get people killed. Besides, I wasn’t in a position to turn down paying work at the time.”

                “I… understand. I apologize.” Fenris said softly, feeling guilty.

                “It’s alright, seriously. After having seen what they’ll do, I can’t believe I helped them with anything at all. But I guess that’s what put me in the position to help the mayor.” Hawke sighed. “Anyway, I had this meeting with the Arishok with my friend, Aveline, who was there on behalf of the police department. Apparently the Qunari were protecting some young guys who murdered a cop because they converted to their religion. I agreed with their reasoning, that cop was a piece of shit, but it was a favor to Aveline.

                “So, long story short, the Arishok gets pissed about, well, _everything_. Goes off on how what a horrible place Kirkwall is, and how it needs to be fixed. Aveline and I figured that this guy was about to do something horrible, so we leave to try and get backup, but his guards attacked us. I seriously don’t even know _how_ we made it out of that,” Hawke laughs, “it took a while, but we did. Aveline went off to get the police, and I grabbed some of my friends and went straight to the mayor’s office. The Arishok was already there, though, and a lot of people had already gotten hurt. He was going to kill the mayor, but we were able to stop him.”

                “Is that why they left, then? Because their leader was arrested?” Fenris asks, surprised that the media hadn’t said a word about what had happened.

                “Um. Well, he wasn’t arrested. He died.” Hawke was quiet, clearly nervous about talking about it. “But, uh, yeah. That’s what happened. The Qunari left, and that was it.” Hawke shrugged, giving Fenris a small smile. “I swear, it wasn’t as heroic as it sounds. It was terrifying, honestly.”

                “I believe you,” Fenris chuckles, “I’ve had to deal with them a little myself, actually. Definitely not a group of people I miss.”

                “You’ve dealt with them?” Hawke asked, sounding confused. “I thought they mostly kept to themselves while they were here.”

                “No, not here. Back in Tevinter.”

                Hawke, with his impeccable timing, had just taken a sip of his coffee, and he briefly started choking. Once he was sure Hawke was fine, Fenris started to laugh.

                “You’re from Tevinter? _Seriously_?” Hawke sounded shocked, and Fenris simply nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking…” he started to say, but Fenris interrupted.

                “Yes, the stories are true, it’s a horrible place.”

                Hawke just nodded. Everyone knew stories about Tevinter, and about how what a horribly corrupt nation it was. Corruption in the deepest levels of government, politicians murdering their rivals, centuries of awful, bloody history; Tevinter was definitely not a place people liked to acknowledge the existence of.

                “Is it true that they allow slavery? That seems too horrific to be true, even if it’s such a horrible place.”

                “Sadly, yes, it’s true.” Fenris said slowly, almost certain that his cheeks were turning red. He needed to change the subject. He couldn’t tell Hawke.

                Fortunately, Hawke must’ve realized that it was a sensitive subject for Fenris.

                “How long have you lived in Kirkwall, then?” he said, trying to sound a little more cheerful.

                “Just about two years.”

                “Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s better than Tevinter I’m sure.” Hawke smiled, and he nodded in agreement.

                They sat together in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes as they finished up their food and drinks, and Fenris spoke up again.

                “I have another question, if it’s alright.” Hawke smiled and nodded. “The first night I met you, the night you gave me your number… what was going on in your apartment? It was honestly _incredibly_ creepy.”

                Hawke just stared at him in confusion for a moment, before Fenris could see the realization in his face, and Hawke burst out laughing.

                “Oh my god,” he said as he laughed, “I didn’t realize how creepy that looked. I’m so used to it, I guess.”

                “So you weren’t summoning demons or something?”

                “No, no, I swear it’s a little more innocent than that.” Hawke was still grinning. “So, uh, that was Merrill’s thing. She’s kind of… psychic, I guess? Or a witch. Or insane. I honestly have no idea. She has this ritual that she does when we’re trying to track someone down, actually. I don’t know how it works, but she uses her creepy spell book, and _blood_ , and she’s able to just find someone. It’s incredible! Except the ritual requires several people, and I always have to be there. It’s always me, our friend Anders, and my sister, Bethany. Merrill says it has to be us because we have the strongest magical energy or something.”

                Fenris just stared at him in disbelief.      

                “Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it works.”

                “Well then. That’s… something.” Fenris said, not entirely convinced.

                “I’ll have to introduce you to them soon! They’re gonna love you!” He said happily, before turning slightly red and he started rubbing his neck again. “I mean. If you want to go out again, of course. “

                “Of course I do.” Fenris said, as if it were the most obvious thing.

                “Oh! Great!” Hawke grinned. “Well, uh. I should probably get going soon, actually. Merrill needed some help fixing a leak in her apartment.”

                “Oh, alright. I won’t keep you any longer, then.” Fenris gave him a smile.

                “Let me give you a ride home, at least..?” Hawke said. “It’s kind of hot out today, and Merrill can wait.”

                “Well, if it’s no trouble, I wouldn’t mind.”

* * *

 

                The drive to Fenris’ apartment was uneventful, for the most part. Except for when started the car and the _cheesiest_ pop music started blasting through the speakers. Hawke turned bright red and started rambling about he’d given his sister a ride earlier, but Fenris wasn’t buying it, and started laughing.

                It was just a couple minutes before they arrived outside his apartment. Hawke got out to say goodbye properly.

                “This was really fun, Fenris. I really enjoyed this!” Hawke was smiling.

                “I had fun, too. This was nice. I really look forward to seeing you again.” Fenris smiled back.

                Suddenly, Hawke turned around to reach into the glove box of his car, and pulled out a pen.

                “Before I forget, hold out your hand.” Fenris raised a brow, but obeyed. “Here’s my number. Please don’t throw away your hand.” Hawke scribbled his number carefully onto the back of his hand, and Fenris fought a wince as he wrote carelessly over the markings on his hands.

                When he was done, Fenris took the pen from his hand and wrote his own number on Hawke’s palm.

                “Alright, I’ll text you later.” Hawke smiled, giving Fenris an extremely awkward pat on the shoulder.

                Without giving him much time to talk himself out of it, Fenris reached up, placing a hand at Hawke’s upper arm, and gave him a small peck on the corner of his mouth, silently hoping it wouldn’t bother Hawke.

                He was extremely satisfied when Hawke’s face turned bright red as he started grinning, trying to form a sentence and failing miserably.

                “I look forward to hearing from you,” he told Hawke, and started walking toward the building.

                Looking up, he noticed Isabela peeking out his window. Well, not peeking, because the curtains were wide open, and she was grinning and giving them a thumbs up. He smiled and looked back at Hawke and saw that he’d noticed too, and they both laughed.

                Fenris realized that he was too happy to be angry at her.

               


	6. Hawke - a Prologue (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at what put Hawke where he is now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoy this! i needed to introduce Hawke's backstory in this au somehow, i just wasn't sure if I should publish it as a chapter in this work, or post it separately as part of this series, but i decided to save everyone the trouble and just post it here. c: i'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet, and the next part should be (hopefully) just as long, as i still have a couple of companions to introduce. c;
> 
> as always, thanks so much for the nice comments and kudos! you guys are really the best <3

                Hawke was 23 when they moved to Kirkwall.

                Well, ‘moved’ isn’t a very accurate term for what had happened, but the truth is, nobody likes to talk about what really happened. Their home, Lothering, was gone. Countless people –people that the Hawke’s knew and cared about- were dead. So, in reality, Hawke was 23 when he, his mother, and his younger siblings _fled_ to Kirkwall.

                Leandra, his mother, told them about the inheritance that was waiting for her there. She told them they’d have a home there. That’s what motivated them to keep going, even after having lost _everything_.

                But then, arriving in Kirkwall and meeting their uncle Gamlen for the first time, they realized things weren’t going to be that pleasant. Gamlen had lost their home; gambled it away. Leandra was furious. Well, they were all furious. The only thing that kept Hawke from breaking his uncles jaw was the fact that Gamlen had at least offered to let them live with him until they could support themselves. His mother had gratefully accepted the offer, but after having settled in, Hawke decided that he would’ve rather lived in a sewer. At least a sewer had a reason for being so disgusting.

                Bethany and Carver, however, were just grateful for beds to sleep in. Hawke and Carver immediately began searching around for work, while Bethany mostly stayed at home with their mother and began applying to various colleges in the area. Carver tried to talk her out of it. They could barely support themselves as it was, how could she afford to go to _college_? But between grants, student loans, and potential scholarships, she told him she was going to go, one way or another, and that paying would be her concern. Eventually, Hawke had had enough of their bickering, and told her that he would support her decision, and promised that he would find a way to get their family back on their feet.

                But in truth, he had no idea how to do that. Fortunately, _Gamlen_ had an idea.

                It was late one night. Bethany and their mother were asleep, but Hawke and Carver were awake, drinking with Gamlen. That’s when he told them about a friend of his.

                Her name was Athenril, according to him, and she was willing to hire them both.

                At first, the brothers had been ecstatic, finally finding someone willing to hire them, but then Gamlen explained who she was, what she did, and most importantly, how illegal her line of work was. They were hesitant, knowing that if either of them were arrested, it would be almost impossible to bring in enough money to support the family, but on the other hand, they desperately needed the work. So they agreed, and Gamlen set up a meeting with Athenril.

                Two days later, they were on their way to meet her for the first time, and they were shocked, to say the least. They had been expecting some sort of brutal, hardened criminal, and Athenril couldn’t have been further from that. She was _small_ ; quite a bit shorter than either of them, and almost scrawny in comparison. She had a stern, almost suspicious look on her face constantly, but from the way she spoke and the way she held her arms folded across her chest, Hawke could tell she was tough. Even with the fact that he was a foot taller than her, and at least 100 pounds heavier, he got the feeling that she could kick his ass if he ever got on her bad side. So, he made a mental note _to never ever get on her bad side._

                She didn’t say too much about her business, just that she was technically a smuggler, as well as some other work here and there. She explained that there was potential in them, and with a bit of proper training, she was sure they’d be able to hold their own in a fight. But for now, they just needed to look intimidating.

                She gave them a job. Well, a practice run.

                “Just stand by me and look intimidating,” she told them. “This guy’s a coward. He won’t try to start anything if he thinks he’ll get his ass kicked.”  

                They wound up at a shabby little shop in Lowtown. The owner, a guy named Cavril, apparently owed Athrenil a _lot_ of money in return for her help with getting his business up and running, and was refusing to pay.

                Things went poorly, right from the beginning. As it turns out, the man had been expecting Athenril to stop by sometime soon, and spent quite a bit of money hiring a couple guards for himself. When they attacked, Hawke reacted on instinct. He had no fighting experience whatsoever, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what to do, and his strength from years working on farm definitely helped. Carver did well, too, but he’d been a bit more violent over the years than Hawke had, getting into fights at school almost constantly. And as Hawke suspected, Athenril could definitely kick his ass, judging from the way she took out two of Cavril’s men in the time it took Hawke and Carver both to take out one.

                In the end, Cavril paid up and Athenril was extremely happy with the way thing had played out, so she hired them. Hawke laughed almost giddily when she told them, beaming with pride as he gave Carver a hug.

                They were going to be okay.

* * *

 

                It wasn’t long before the money started coming in, and it didn’t have to go immediately to food, or clothes, or any other basic necessity that Gamlen wouldn’t pay for. Hawke and Carver both pitched in a bit of their earnings to make sure than their mother and Bethany had some general spending money. Bethany treated it with suspicion. They weren’t sure, but they thought that somehow, Bethany knew they were lying about where they were working. They told her and their mother that they were just doing odd-jobs, which wasn’t _technically_ a lie, but they couldn’t admit that what they were doing was extremely illegal, usually.

                Months went by.

The money kept coming in, and they were earning more every day as they started building a reputation in the criminal world.

Bethany, on the other hand, was extremely proud when she revealed to the family that she’d gotten hired at a local coffee shop.

As it turned out, feeling guilty about the way he’d treated her when she started applying to schools, Carver saved up most of his earnings to pay for a nice laptop for Bethany. She cried and hugged him when he gave it to her, and in one of those rare moments, Carver actually hugged her back instead of just looking extremely annoyed about it. Hawke piped up that he was going to start paying for better Wi-Fi for their little apartment, and even Gamlen hugged him for that.

But even with the nice gift Carver had given her, Bethany was suspicious. If anything, that made her even more suspicious. So she confronted them about it late one evening, after Gamlen and their mother had gone off to bed.

She told them that she knew they were involved in something illegal. Of course, they denied it at first, but once it was clear that Bethany wasn’t going to let it go, they told her the truth.

She was _furious_. She told them they were idiots for getting involved in something so stupid. Then, she told them she wanted to help. There was no way her idiot brothers were going to keep doing something to careless without some decent supervision. Hawke and Carver were stunned when she told them that, and refused. Their mother would _literally_ kill them if anything were to happen to Bethany because of them. But once she threatened them with telling their mother about what they were doing, the agreed to let her come with them once, hoping it would scare her out of wanting to go with them anymore.

As it turned out, they made one hell of a team.

Not only was she a shockingly good fighter (which, she admitted, was thanks to self-defense classes she had been taking), her cheery, innocent demeanor allowed her to put even the toughest targets at ease, while Hawke and Carver did what they were there for.

                So, for months, that was their team. Bethany joined them on her days off, refusing to give up the coffee shop job even if it meant sacrificing the amount of money she’d get for helping them. Hawke was secretly thankful that she stayed, because it gave him an excuse to keep going to that coffee shop.

* * *

 

                One evening, about a year after being hired by Athenril, Bethany gathered the family to give them some news.

                She’d been accepted to her university-of-choice.

                Everyone was extremely happy for her, but then she told them how far away it was. She would live on-campus, but she’d be so far away. Then, things didn’t seem so happy, but they were all _so_ proud of her.

* * *

 

                Once Bethany left, Hawke made a few big decisions.     

                First, they were moving out of Gamlen’s apartment. Between him and Carver, they made enough to pay for an apartment plenty big enough for the three of them, in _Hightown,_ of all places.

                Then, he and Carver quit working for Athenril. With their _glowing_ reputation in the criminal underworld, most of their work was coming to them directly, rather than through her. She wasn’t happy about losing a couple of her best people, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss, and even promised to send them any work that she didn’t want for herself.

                Hawke started to change the way he did business. With what he’d saved up over the last year, he knew that even if their income was cut off completely, they’d have enough money to be okay for a while, so he took a risk. He started to refuse business to shadier people, and started working more to _help_ people. Scaring off thieves and various other gross people who prey on the weaker people in Kirkwall, people started referring to him as a ‘vigilante’ rather than just a petty criminal.

                That’s when he started making friends.

* * *

 

                Aveline Vallen was a tall, broad, frankly _terrifying_ woman that could probably easily fight both Hawke and Carver. And to everyone’s surprise, she was asking them for help.

                She was a cop, just barely getting started in Kirkwall after transferring from Ferelden after her husband, Wesley, died.

                It didn’t take her long to figure out that there was something wrong in the police force in Kirkwall. She just _knew_. Suspicious behavior from her boss, Jeven, seemingly nonsensical patrol routes… it didn’t make sense, and Aveline needed to get to the bottom of it before someone got hurt.

                But she couldn’t do it on her own. She decided to risk everything and seek outside help from a man the Kirkwall police department knew simply as “Hawke”. They didn’t have much on him, just a small collection of his various exploits over the past year or so. They would’ve pursued him, but once he started targeting the actual, awful criminals of Kirkwall, they decided to put his case on hold for a while to pursue more important cases. Aveline hoped he’d be willing to help her, despite the fact that she was an officer.

                She contacted him as privately as possible, and arranged for a meeting one inconspicuous afternoon at the Wounded Coast. She knew she was risking everything she’d worked so hard all her life to get, but she had to get to the bottom of this.

                She heard the men approach, and despite being there to ask for help, she instinctively reached for a blade she kept tucked protectively into one of her boots. She knew it was foolish to come without her gun, but she could defend herself with a knife just as easily.

                As she whipped around to see them approach, Hawke must’ve realized what she was doing, and raised his hands to show that he was unarmed.

                “It’s alright,” he chuckled, “I’m not going to attack you or something. _You_ contacted _me_ , right?”

                Her cheeks grew red from embarrassment, though she knew she shouldn’t be ashamed. This man was a criminal, after all.

                “Right. I’m sorry.” She said, tucking the blade back into her boot. “My name is Aveline. I need help.”

                “I gathered that much from the letter you taped to my front door,” Hawke said, and the man behind him stifled a laugh.

                The other man looked almost nothing like Hawke. Hawke was tall, with shaggy brown hair and a thick beard framing his face, whereas the other man looked a bit younger, clean shaven, with darker, black hair that looked as if he at least bothered to brush it.

                “I know who _you_ are,“ she gestured to Hawke, “but not you.”

                “My brother, Carver.” He smiled, and Carver groaned, mumbling something about telling people their real names.

                “Look, I don’t care the fact that you’re criminals. There’s something wrong on the police force,” she said in a loud whisper, suddenly realizing they were having this meeting in such an open area.

                Hawke raised a brow.

                “Which means… you must be a cop?” Carver said, looking worried.

                “Yes, I am. But I’m not here to turn you in or arrest you. Like I said before; there’s something wrong on the police force, and I need help getting to the bottom of it before someone gets hurt.” Aveline was almost certain he was going to walk away, or even worse, tell someone that she’d come to him for help. But to her surprise, he took a step closer to her, and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

                “Look, I don’t care that you’re a cop,” he said, very seriously, “if innocent people are at risk, we’re willing to help.”

                Aveline sighed in relief.

                “Thank you. Come on, I’ll show you the evidence…”

* * *

 

                Within just a couple of days, they’d gotten enough evidence to prove that Aveline’s boss, Jeven, was in deep debt to a local gang, and was using police resources to pay them back, getting a couple of her coworkers nearly killed in the process. If she and the Hawkes hadn’t been there, there’s no way the other officers would’ve been able to fight the gang off.

                Jeven was arrested, and for her admirable work, Aveline was promoted to his position. She had, of course, had to take full credit for the discovery of Jeven’s plot, and the other officers, Brennan and Donnic, agreed to hide the fact that the Hawkes were involved.

                Aveline tried to pay Hawke for his help, but to her surprise, he turned it down.

                “Look, I’m just glad that that scumbag’s off the police force, and nobody’s getting hurt. And it doesn’t hurt that I’m on a cop’s good side now, right?” He gave her one of his prize-winning grins. She gave him a small smile in return and rolled her eyes.

                “If you’re interested,” she said quietly, “I’d be willing to pass on information to you, if I think you could be of use again. No promises, though. I have a reputation to uphold now.”

                “I would appreciate that.” He gave her a genuine smile now. He truly did just want to help people.

* * *

 

                Hawke wanted to help people, but there were times where helping people meant hurting, or killing, someone.

                He met Anders for the first time in a vaguely creepy free clinic in Darktown.

                The man was tall, pale, and skinny like he hadn’t had a proper meal in years. He looked exhausted; his blond hair tied back loosely, strands falling out of place. Hawke could tell that he hadn’t slept in days. He greeted them as they entered the waiting room of the clinic and gestured for them to follow him back to his office.

                “I feel like you’re going to tell me I’m sick and dying or something,” Hawke said as he took a seat across from the man. He just gave a small chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

                “Well, uh…” Anders said quietly, as if he were afraid to speak up, “someone murdered my boyfriend.”

                “I’m sorry,” Hawke said, feeling genuinely bad for him, “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through.” Anders just nodded, eyes fixed on the desk in front of him. He picked up a framed photo off the desk and handed it to Hawke. The photo showed Anders with a man, and a cat, for some reason. Anders was smiling, looking happier and healthier than he did now. The man with him looked much older than him, but he was also grinning, an arm wrapped around Anders’ waist. Hawke felt a pang of guilt as he saw how happy they were together, and felt terrible for Anders knowing that he lost him. He handed to photo back to him.

                “I don’t have much money, I’ll tell you now,” Anders said. “But I can offer you what little savings I do have, _and_ my services. If you help me, you’ll be welcome here, any time. I’ll even give you my address, in case you need help after hours. I know what you do, so surely you could use medical assistance occasionally, right? And I’ll keep my mouth shut about it, obviously.”

                He wasn’t wrong. Bethany had done what should could to help their injuries before, having shown an interest in the medical field when she was a bit younger, so she’d studied it extensively for a while, but she was no doctor. And not to mention the fact that she wasn’t even in the same country as them anymore. Anders was right; having a skilled doctor at their disposal would be extremely useful.

                “Carver,” Hawke said, turning to face his brother, “what do you think?” Hawke knew they couldn’t turn this down, but he had to approve it with Carver first, at least. Otherwise his brother would start to get grumpy with him for making all these major decisions without asking him first.

                “We could definitely use a doctor,” Carver nodded.

                “Alright, we’ll do it.” Hawke said, determined to get on this guy’s good side.

                “I haven’t even told you what I want you to do yet,” Anders pointed out, raising his brows.

                “Oh! Well, maybe you should do that, then.” Hawke gave a nervous laugh.

                “The man who killed Karl is a Templar.” He said simply, knowing that this would probably determine whether or not they agreed to the task. Hawke sucked in a sharp breath.

                “Let me guess: you want us to kill this Templar?” he said in disbelief. It was almost too far, even for them.          

                The Templars were basically Kirkwall’s military, completely separate from the police force, and under the command of the Chantry. They were well respected, and attacking one was usually extremely dangerous. They usually only helped with things that were far beyond what the police could do, like hunting the worst of the criminals Kirkwall had to offer, so Hawke couldn’t help but wonder what Karl had done to warrant being targeted by one.

                “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. Karl was a good man. He didn’t deserve this.” Anders looked dangerously close to tears at this point. “We were both activists: gay rights and whatnot. We attended rallies and protests together often, and Templars often showed up to scare everyone off, claiming that we were all “rioting” or something. It’s no secret that they’re all just a bunch of homophobic bastards.”              

                Hawke looked over at Carver, who just looked at him and shrugged.

                “We’ll do it,” Hawke told Anders gently. This man had clearly been through much, he could at least give him this. “Tell us what you know about the Templar that killed him.”

* * *

 

                As it turned out, Anders had done a lot of research in the short time since Karl had died. Hawke had no doubt that this man, Alrik, was responsible. In fact, he had been responsible for so many other disgusting crimes, Hawke would’ve killed the man for nothing if he’d known about him sooner.

                Killing people wasn’t new to Hawke: there were times, working for Athenril, where it just couldn’t be avoided, so Hawke knew what he had to do. Anders insisted on coming along as well, as he, admittedly, wanted to watch him die. Hawke didn’t argue with him.

                It was over quickly: Anders knew where he lived, so they were able to get in and slit his throat without any trouble. Afterward, they headed back to Anders’ clinic, and he pulled an envelope of cash out of a desk drawer.

                “It’s about $10,000.” He said quietly as he handed it across to Hawke. “It’s all I have left.”

                Hawke slowly took the envelope and peeked inside. He didn’t have to count it to know he was telling the truth, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty. Between the way he always sounded like he could start crying at any moment, and the promise of having an actual, professional doctor on standby at any time of day, Hawke made a decision. And Carver was going to _kill_ him.

                He reached into the envelope and pulled out $500. He handed those bills to Carver, and the envelope back to Anders.

                “Keep it. You clearly need it.” Hawke said sternly. “Having your services available is worth at least that much, honestly.”

                Carver looked about an inch for punching his brother in the face, but kept his mouth shut, since Hawke had bothered to at least give _him_ some money.

                Anders sighed, taking the envelope and putting it carefully back in the drawer.

                “Thank you.” He said, reaching out to shake Hawke’s hand. “But… at least let me buy you both some dinner or something. My friend Varric runs a restaurant nearby, and he’s been dying to meet you both.”

                “Honestly, that sounds incredible.” Carver said. “I’m starving.”

                “Alright, Anders,” Hawke smiled, “lead the way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, that's part 1 of Hawke's prologue! I hope you guys enjoyed it. I'll have the next part written and posted soon. (I wanted to post it all together, but this is all i was able to finish writing tonight. besides, this would've gotten REALLY lengthy if i'd done it that way) <3


	7. Hawke - a Prologue (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is introduced to Varric and Merrill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I wanted to have this written yesterday, but i hit a creative roadblock, i guess! but then it passed, and so i'm extended the prologue by at least one more chapter. i hope that doesn't bother anyone! this chapter isn't quite as long as the last one, i dont think, but we're finally introduced to merrill, who i love more than life itself, but absolutely cannot write well, at all! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!! and thanks again for the nice comments and kudos! you guys are seriously so important to me and i love u <3

                Varric turned out to be pretty far from what they expected.           

            When Anders told them he had a friend who wanted to meet them, Hawke had expected someone, well… scarier.

            They hadn’t been expected a smooth-talking storyteller, who was interested in tales of their various criminal adventures just as much as he was in their services. Varric turned out to be a rather short, stocky man with blond hair tied back neatly, and a shirt buttoned down _just_ enough to show an uncomfortable amount of chest hair. He was nice, but Hawke got the impression that although he wasn’t the type of person to stab them in the backs the first time they turn around, he shouldn’t necessarily believe much of what Varric says. He was just a little too charming.

* * *

 

As soon as Anders, Hawke, and Carver entered the restaurant, the hostess greeted Anders and asked if they were there to meet with Varric, which he confirmed, and she led them all back to a booth in a secluded, practically empty part of the restaurant. Hawke slid in first, with Carver next to him, and Anders sat across from them. A young waiter came over with a few drinks, which Hawke suspected was what Anders usually had when he came here, and they sat in silence for a couple minutes as they waited. Anders was quiet; his eyes fixed on the table, and Hawke couldn’t help but feel awful for the man.

            “Are you alright?” Hawke asked gently.

            “I feel better knowing that the man’s dead.”

            Hawke just nodded, and decided to leave it alone. He knew Anders was still mourning. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how long it’d been since Karl was murdered. He knew better than to keep prodding.

            Finally, their waiter approached to take their order, but was almost immediately interrupted.

            “Blondie!”

            They looked over and saw the man they’d come to know as Varric Tethras approaching.

            “I was you’d turn up,” Varric chuckled. “I see you got my tip about the Hawkes. And you brought them here! Nice to meet you both. The name’s Varric Tethras,” he said as he slid into the booth next to Anders, reaching across the table to shake Carver’s hand, then Hawke’s.

            “I’m Hawke, this is Carver,” Hawke said, “but apparently you know that already?”

            Varric laughed.

            “Yeah, of course I know who you are. We’re not terribly different people, after all.”

            “So you’re…uh…” Carver started to say, but struggled to find the right words.

            “Well, no, not exactly.” Varric said, understanding what Carver was trying to say. “Look, if I was going to explain exactly what my job is, it’d take a week. All you need to know is that we’re going to work well together. Also, I run a pizza restaurant.”

            “We don’t have a week, but if you want to work with us, you’ll need to explain what you do.” Carver said harshly.

            “Look, Junior, all you need to know is that I have people. A network. We do everything: smuggling, petty thievery, the occasional murder or two,” he said with a glance toward Anders, “we have eyes and ears all over the city. We could help each other.”

            “You recommended us to Anders, then?” Hawke asked.

            “I work for Varric, sometimes. He knew I needed help, and he wanted to see what you two could do.”   

            “Blondie patches up my people, gets paid well for it, _and_ eats here for free. It’s a great deal for everyone involved.”

            “Look, Varric,” Hawke said, “I appreciate the offer, but we’re really not interested in working under someone again. We had enough of that, and we’re doing well enough on our own, I think.”

            “We don’t have to talk about that now,” Varric said, and just then, their waiter returned with their pizza. “Let’s just eat, and we can discuss business another time. I mostly just wanted to meet you today. Besides, I’m not the one who’s dying to work with you. You’ll meet _her_ soon enough.”

            Hawke opened his mouth to ask who she was, but then he smelled the pizza that’d been set in front of him, and all he could say was a whispered ‘oh my god’.

            As they ate, Varric asked questions. _Lots_ of questions. He asked about various jobs they’ve done, how long they’ve been in Kirkwall, why he was called Hawke instead of Garrett but Carver was just _Carver_. Hawke decided that he could trust Varric, and told him about all of his most interesting jobs, some so ridiculous that by the end of the night, even Anders was laughing. Varric told them some interesting stories as well, and soon, Hawke was starting to think that working with this guy might not be such a bad idea.

* * *

 

            Two days later, that afternoon, Varric was leading them through Lowtown to meet a friend of his. He was intentionally vague on the details, but insisted that she was a good person, and she liked helping people. According to him, she had a “gift”, but there was no way he could explain it without making him seem insane.      

            Pretty soon, they ended up in one of the worst, poorest parts of Lowtown on the outskirts of Kirkwall. Hawke had been to this part before; it was always riddled with criminals, and Hawke didn’t limit his endeavors to just stopping criminals when he was being paid for it. Kirkwall in general was a dangerous city, and Hawke thoroughly enjoyed getting criminals off the street, either by turning them in to the police (much easier now, thanks to Aveline), or, more frequently, by less-than-legal means.

            Varric led them to what could only be described as a large shack. From the outside, it looked awful, which was no surprise considering what part of town they were. But to make up for the horrendous appearance of the house itself, there was a beautiful garden planted in what little yard there was. Colorful flowers lined the path leading to the front door, and a variety of different plants and flowers –many of which Hawke had never even seen before- were planted in a skillful arrangement. It was a gorgeous splash of color against the grim, dirty Lowtown neighborhood.

            Varric led them to the front door, and was in the middle of his third knock when the door swung open. The woman inside looked young, maybe Carver’s age, and had short black hair, and the biggest, greenest eyes Hawke had even seen. And tattoos. Beautiful, intricate tattoos on her chin, along her cheekbones, and across her forehead stood out proudly against her pale skin. Regardless, she looked about as innocent and harmless as a puppy, and Hawke immediately found her adorable. Apparently, so did Carver, as he practically blushed when she looked up at them and grinned.

            “Good afternoon, Daisy,” Varric said with a smile.

            “Hello, Varric,” she said, cheerfulness practically radiating from her, “and you must be the Hawkes!” She reached out to shake their hands. “My name’s Merrill. Not Daisy, Varric just calls me Daisy because I like flowers, I think. But that’s fine! Come inside! I’ll get you some drinks.”

            She led them inside and gestured toward a couch just inside the door, and they sat down. Inside was definitely much nicer than outside. It was much cleaner that Hawke had expected, and with pretty furniture that looked almost hand-made; subtly imperfect in a way that made it all the more beautiful. She had an old television in the corner that looked like it was rarely used, and sleek laptop on the coffee table. Nearly every surface they could see was covered books; some looked old and worn, others appeared to be newer and well-taken care of. Tucked away in a corner, Hawke could also see what appeared to be a large, gorgeous, ornate mirror that looked _ancient_. Strangely enough, Hawke noted, he couldn’t seem to make out a reflection in it.

            Merrill returned from the kitchen (although it was all one room, she was in the kitchen half of the room), and handed them each a glass of lemonade. She took a seat in a large, cozy chair across from them.    

            “So, Hawke,” Varric began, “as you know, this is Merrill.” Merrill grinned. “She wants to work for you.”

            Hawke and Carver both raised their brows in surprise.

            “Um. Varric, you know what we do, don’t you?” Hawke said, gently.

            “Yeah, yeah, I know, she looks to precious and innocent, right? Well, let me tell you how I met her.”

            Varric then began his tale.

* * *

 

            Apparently, a gang that Varric’s “network” is associated with told him that they’d found one of their people dead in Lowtown, his throat cut. They wouldn’t have been too concerned about it; after all, they were a very illegal gang, except in this case, this man had been one of many of their people found dead the same way, in the same area. So, Varric launched an investigation. When the investigation led him to _Merrill_ , he was stunned. How had this young woman managed to kill all of those experienced _criminals_?

            He met with her personally, deciding to go to her house, alone, and just _talk_ to her. He’d already come up with a theory; it was just self-defense. He knew that when frightened, even someone as tiny and precious as her could kill someone. And according to her, that wasn’t too far from the truth.

            The first couple of times she killed someone, it was self-defense. She liked to take walks at night, when sleep evaded her and she couldn’t stand staying in the house any longer. She’d often wander too far from home and end up lost in dark parts of town, or she’d take shortcuts through shady alleyways. The first time or two were different, as she’d tried to get away when someone grabbed her in the dark, fighting with all her strength, but when it was clear she was outmatched, she drew the small blade she carried with her, and cut where she knew would be most effective. She’d been scared. She stopped taking walks at night for a while.         

            The next time, she had finally decided to take another walk late at night. It was another sleepless night, no amount of reading or jogging in circles around the couch seemed to wear her out, so she took a walk. She decided to stay close to home, the pressure of her knife in her pocket pressing against her thigh brought comfort. But then she heard a scream, quickly cut off and muffled, but she had _heard_ it. She ran toward the sound, and found a man attempting to drag a woman into a dark alley, and she reacted on instinct. She was quick, able to sneak up behind him with terrifying speed and grace, and she cut his throat, just like the others. The woman he had attacked was terrified. Merrill took off her jacket and draped it over the woman’s shoulders, and took off the buttoned-down blouse that she’d worn over a tank-top and used it to gently wipe the blood from the woman’s face. She walked the woman home, promising her that she was safe, and to try to forget what happened that night; she’d be okay.

            So, Merrill continued her late-night walks. Every now and then she’d come across someone in need of help, or she would be attacked, but she took care of it. Eventually, Varric found her, and wanted to know what the hell she was doing. She explained everything to him, and he was extremely sympathetic. In fact, he felt guilty for everything she’d been forced to do to protect herself and the people of Lowtown. He left that day, promising her that no harm would come to her for her actions against those gangs, even if those gangs were “allies” to his own network. The next time he spoke to the leader of the gang that’d been plaguing Merrill’s home, he told the man he’d pay to keep his people out of Merrill’s part of Lowtown, and to his shock, the man agreed. Crime rates dropped immeasurably in the following weeks, and the next time Varric went to visit her (with a vase of the prettiest flowers that money could buy) she hugged him, thanking him for protecting her people.

* * *

 

            “Holy shit,” Carver whispered as Varric finished the story.

            Hawke and Carver stared, eyes huge, and Varric and Merrill, in complete and utter disbelief.

            “I know, right?” Varric laughed.

            “That’s true? You really did all that?” Hawke asked her.

            “Well, Varric exaggerated a bit. It wasn’t _that_ many people. Maybe 6 or 7, at the most, I’m sure.” Merrill said, looking a bit nervous. “I had to protect them, though. These people are innocent, they don’t deserve any of this. That’s why I want to work for you. You get rid of bad people, don’t you? And you get paid for it, which is great, because I’m unemployed.” Her cheery voice was back.       

            Hawke was still in shock. Fortunately, Carver found his voice quickly.

            “Uh, Varric, you mentioned something about a gift…? Or was it her ability to murder people that you were talking about?” He said.

            “Ah, right. That one’s a little tricky to explain. Merrill?”

            “Most people would refer to me as a witch,” she said, matter-of-factly, “not in a bad way, though!” she said quickly, assuring them. “I don’t fly around on a broom or turn people into frogs or anything like that, I swear! But the magic I do, well, it helps! I can track anyone, using something like their blood, or saliva, or even bits of hair! That’s not all, of course, but that’s really the most relevant thing, for what we do.”

            They looked at Varric expectantly. He just shrugged and shook his head.

            “I’ve never actually seen her do the ritual, but it works. She’s helped me countless times.”

            “He can’t be nearby when I do the ritual, I’m afraid,” she said sadly. “What I do –the rituals and such- draws on magical energy that exists around us. It’s not very strong, of course, but those who are strong enough and have studied it well can draw on that energy and use it for some things. I’m not very skilled at the moment, I’m afraid, but I’m learning! But as I said, some people can use on this energy. Most people can’t, and some people, _very_ few, simply… absorb it! Varric is one of those people, I’m afraid. Sadly, I can’t do anything when he’s nearby!”

            “What about us?” Carver asked. “Would we be able to watch one of these rituals, to make sure you’re… serious?”

            “Oh, yes! Varric is a rarity, I suppose. You both would be fine to join me. In fact, Hawke, you have a very strong magical aura! You know, you could probably learn to do this like I do! I could teach you, if you like.”       She sounded genuinely excited at this point.

            “Uh… I’m not sure about that.” He said, slightly terrified. This woman was probably technically considered a serial killer (even if she was a good person, doing it with good reason), and now she wanted to teach him _magic_. He could not _wait_ to tell Bethany about this.

            “Ah, that’s okay!” she assured him, “Even just your presence at the ritual will be very helpful. With you and Anders, it should be easy!”

            “Wait, Anders does it, too?” Carver asked.

            “He’s like Hawke; he has a very strong magical aura. He usually helps me with the rituals, since it’s best to have at least two people,” she explained. “Otherwise, it’s so exhausting!”

            Hawke looked at Carver, and he simply shrugged, leaving the choice up to Hawke.

            “Well, Merrill,” he began, “if you can fight, and you can help us track people down, we’ll be glad to have you around. But I would like to see one of these rituals, just to make sure you can really do this stuff.”

            “Of course!” she said. She was grinning, and her eyes had grown huge out of excitement. “I’d love to have you be part of one!”

            And with that, they said their goodbyes, and exchanged contact information. Hawke had told her that her service wasn’t necessarily needed at the moment, but as soon as something came up, they’d let her know and she could show them what she could do. She was clearly very excited, and Hawke couldn’t help but feeling excited about working with her. She was cheery, happy, and bright, which brought a nice change to their grimness of their usual life. Noticing the way Carver seems to stutter during his goodbye, and the way he blushed when she gave him a hug (like she’d given Hawke and Varric), Hawke teased him quietly on their way home, to which he replied with a single, quiet, “fuck off.”

           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i've got a pretty solid idea of what's gonna happen in the next chapter. hopefully, it will make you guys sad. c;   
> but i'm having a bit of a conflict: i'm not sure which side-relationship i want in this fic. carver/merrill or isabela/merrill? i'm personally leaning toward isabela/merrill, because those two are just so precious together in the game, and i'm not sure that my current plans for carver will allow for him to be with merrill... any opinions would be appreciated!! i'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible C:

**Author's Note:**

> again, i'm very sorry for this. I know i set it up to have more chapters, so I'll probably write more of this eventually. 
> 
> and just to clarify what i'm going for in terms of friendships in this AU (which may or may not be addressed in any future chapters): Fenris and Isabela work together and are basically best friends? Hawke is friends with the rest of the DAII crew. Isabela and Varric are friends as well, and maybe she's met Hawke through him. 
> 
>  
> 
> you can find the full AU prompt post here: http://janefosters.co.vu/post/114250153853/angiespeggy-list-of-trash-aus-i-need-immediately
> 
> they're all so perfect, i'll probably end up writing more from these prompts because i am trash.


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